


Swagger

by HurricanesatDawn



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Bloodplay, Knifeplay, M/M, PWP, Some BDSM
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-11
Updated: 2012-10-11
Packaged: 2017-11-16 02:10:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,597
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/534319
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HurricanesatDawn/pseuds/HurricanesatDawn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt: BDSM and Bloodplay</p>
            </blockquote>





	Swagger

The paddle moves through the air, cracking down hard on the expanse of skin, making the body jerk in surprise. James breathes in, blood rising to his cheeks, a cry just short of his lips at the way it feels. The pain is mild, something that will only be sure to build. It's more the suddenness of the sensation.

He bites his lip, deliberately holding back the whimper that he knows Sebastian will want to shake from his body, will see him hide.

The next smack comes harder and without warning, taking him on another soft spot of skin across his buttocks, but this time he's more prepared for it. His body only twitches.

The following ones are interspersed evenly, some harder than others, some almost succeeding in making him cry out. His rear grows steadily hotter, reddening at its treatment, and each time it twitches involuntarily for more. But then they both know that Sebastian wouldn't be doing this if he didn't have explicit permission.

The man wants to say something, James can feel it. He no doubt wants to say something vicious and cutting, drive James to helpless noises, but he holds back. This is almost a stress exercise for the both of them. See who breaks first. See who gets the most out of it in the end.

As the final blow comes, James rolls his neck, knowing instinctively that another won't follow, and he's a touch regretful of that fact. But it's overshadowed by the knowledge that this is just foreplay, and whatever Sebastian intends to give him next will build on it, making it infinitely better.

The mat shifts slightly as Sebastian pulls away standing up, but that's all that James can determine, and he flexes his hands. His breath is coming in heavier pants, and the lack of ability to see anything but black is making his head spin just a little bit. The ropes seem to dig into his skin in just the right way, tight enough to make him feel trapped, but not nearly enough to give him more than a faint reminder of the pain he'll feel if he tries to jerk out of them. Short of finding a way to make the ropes binding him disintegrate, he's utterly trapped; and it's delicious.

The cuffs wrapped around his ankles make his toes throb, just enough to remind him of their presence, despite the fact that they're hard to miss. His knees are bent and folded underneath him, extra strips of leather holding his thighs tightly against his feet by way of the cuffs. It should be awkward and uncomfortable, but he's flexible enough, and has done it enough, that it only succeeds in adding to the sheer amount of control and trust he's placing in Sebastian's hands.

Suddenly the man's back, not touching him, save for the flash of unexpected cold trailing along his back, from the bones of his shoulders to his coccyx. He knows what it is immediately, driving an involuntary gasp from his lips, despite the fact that it doesn't cut into his skin yet, only giving him the hint of the cuts that are sure to come.

Sure enough, within a matter of seconds, he feels the telltale cold again, the blade sharp enough that the pain is an afterthought. When it does come, and the sharpness starts to fill his nostrils, he his eyes roll back a bit, and he breathes in harder through his nose, a quiet whimper slipping from his sealed lips.

It wasn't a very deep cut, they never are, but it was enough to draw blood to the surface, he's sure. Especially if the way what has to be Sebastian's tongue suddenly presses down on his skin, and his lips move to suck around the spot.

This time he can't help it, and gives into the moan, which earns a chuckle against his skin, deep and throaty. The man pulls away, smacking his lips loudly in the air, and the blade returns.

How many times he's cut and how deep seems to wash over his head in the rush of sensations, making him fall further and further into his head, enjoying the pain, the way he can almost feel the blood ooze out of his back, dripping as he jerks every few seconds.

It's over before he knows it, only being able to tell by the way the knife clatters across the floor when it's thrown, and it's followed by pressure against his back. Hands, fingers, scratching into his skin, into the cuts, digging in and making him gasp and groan, until his body is simultaneously struggling between attempting to pull away and pushing into it. His blood is sticky, and it feels funny as it's rubbed further into his  skin, and the hands move away again after just a minute of his, fingers forcing their way into his mouth, making him suck and lick at his own blood.

The taste is coppery and harsh, and he moans harder, unable now to tell the difference between his lust and Sebastian's, whether or not he's enjoying the taste of his blood simply because Sebastian is feeding it to him, or because the way it threatens to sting his mouth feels good.

Despite it not being verbally uttered, he can hear the  _'good boy'_  in the air, and he knows that Sebastian's proud of himself, proud of drawing him to this point, making him submit like this. He's too far gone to be bothered, instead considering the sensation to be an exhilarating one, because in a way, he's still in control. With every second that ticks by, he's pulling Sebastian further and further down with him, and that's the ultimate control, when you don't even need to do anything but exist and be used.

His mouth is emptied, leaving him panting, a hint of slobber around his lips and dripping down his chin, probably mixed with whatever blood he hasn't swallowed yet, and the fingers prod as his rear. The muscles in his thighs tense automatically, and his whimper turns into a shocked moan when two of the fingers penetrate him, going all the way inside without hesitation, and straight for his prostate.

It feels too good to be true, that Sebastian would move straight to his pleasure, and sure enough, after only a tap against that spot, the fingers are retreating, pulling all the way out of him. They're replaced a moment later, after the sound of spitting, by the obvious pressure of Sebastian's cock against the rim of his arse.

He bites his lip as it goes in, groaning as it seems to absolutely tear through his every muscle on its quest to get all the way into him, and in a matter of seconds, he can feel Sebastian's hips hit his hot skin.

Everything, from the cuts across his back, to the tingling in his mouth, and harsh burning of pressure against his buttocks, makes it feel like it could be too much. Sebastian's cock feels unusually large him, as if something inflatable has been forced inside him, but he knows that's just coming from the dizzying feeling in his head. It feels good, perfect, even, as the length pulls back, retracting until only an inch is left in him, and pushes forward, harder and faster than before, the thrust less concerned at breaking him.

It makes him gurgle, grunting when Sebastian's chest presses down onto his back, claiming him in another way, the hair on his chest digging into the cuts to make them feel like they've been reopened. It feels slippery as well, and Sebastian's arms come up to hook around his shoulders, not threatening to jerk his hands away from the hook in the floor, but holding him in place. With this, every thrust comes harder, more viciously as he gains control, able to take more and more from James each time.

It's just bordering on painful, a screaming sensation from his toes to his head, but so good that he can't focus, can't feel anything but Sebastian's body wrapped around him, the way he slides in and out, claiming him with the sharp rocking of his body.

He doesn't scream, doesn't cry out harder than necessary, only releasing the occasional grunt and moan, sometimes a whimper, growing steadily louder as the angle shifts, as his body is jerked harder up against Sebastian's, and finally his prostate is found again.

The proclamation of  _'fuck!'_  has to be bitten back, and it makes his tongue sting, his mouth filling once again with coppery blood, the smell seeping into his nose, making it hard to breathe.

It's so good that he can't feel, can't think, can't concentrate beyond each thrust, beyond sucking in each desperate breath when he can, trying not to collapse or lose consciousness under Sebastian's weight.

His orgasm takes him by surprise, having lost track of any sense of time or number of thrusts, even how long it's been since this all started, and it's ripped from his body, making his mouth fall open. An indecipherable sound gurgles from his lips, every muscle in his body seeming to contract, to jerk like an orchestra, ringing filling his ears, the dizzy feeling in his head compressing, tearing him away from anything more that makes sense.

He forgets everything that isn't Sebastian's body, Sebastian's cock, Sebastian's lips and teeth digging into the skin of his neck, and Sebastian's hands closing around his to hold him as he also finishes, being milked dry by James' sobbing body.


End file.
